The Days That Follow
by BeIntrospective
Summary: Rex liked it better when he could call the bloodstain on the floor just a blob. Caesar would prefer it if his little brother would stop high jacking his way across the globe. Six would like to know who the hell thought it would be a good idea to spawn this nightmare. The Event has happened and these are the days that follow it. AU
1. In the Beginning

The Days that Follow

* * *

Rex liked it better when he could call the bloodstain on the floor just a blob. Caesar would prefer it if his little brother would stop high jacking his way across the globe. Six would like to know who the hell thought it would be a good idea to spawn this nightmare. The Event has happened and these are the days that follow. AU

* * *

Chapter 1

Black. Then white. Blending into grey, shades of the three begin to form. Its dim – dark. Everything formless, floating at the edge of his awareness – teasing, pulling at his focus.

Black again.

Then grey, white, black all at the same time once more. There are more than shades now – now there are shapes. Everything still seems stifled, muted and somehow he knows that there should be more. Less than a foot from his face is a blob more dark and distinct than the other blobs he's trying to make out. Progress, though, right? It's flat and spread in an odd shape, but its shines with an odd light.

Ah. A window. He groans as everything turns black again- moving his head is Bad Idea number one so far- before his eyes manage to focus on the lighter shades of grey streaming through the window and hitting the blob thing in front of him. No, not grey anymore, just muted blues and greys and browns now. And red. The blob in front of his is a shiny red stretching out further before him – coming from him.

Blood. The blob is blood. He thinks he likes it better when he could just call it a blob. Maybe he will anyway.

Blood. He's bleeding and that is his blob that's bleeding out.

Sharp focus springs back so quickly, like a taught rubber band – _"don't you dare shoot that thing in my lab!" –_ that it's painful. Like _really_ painful. The kind of abstract pain where you want to purposefully step on a lego, stub your toe, do _something_ to distract you from it.

"Guh." Carpet is pressed against his cheek, its warm and…sticky? Nope. That would be his blob that's sticking to his right cheek. Probably his hair too. He tries shifting from his stomach to his elbows – Bad Idea, take two – gasps from the effort it takes, arms shaking, knees stiff and sore.

The blob isn't as big as he thought. It still stings when he lightly presses a hand to the side of his head though. Ok – anything to do with his head is just a Bad Idea in general apparently.

Suddenly the light from the window glows a bit brighter, briefly illuminating the room, plain and bare as it is. Its small though, with one compact bed pressed up against one wall, no pictures or decorations of any kind, and – oops, there's the criminally ugly lamp stand (he could swear it was a glowing pink, even in the dark) responsible for all his Bad Ideas so far resting just behind him, speckled with red and glass scattered all around it. Briefly, he is tempted to step on it for good measure.

If he could get up that was. Stupid head with its stupid leaking blob.

Oh, right. He was – _is_ – bleeding. From the lamp. How did that happen?

How…did it happen? Did he fall into the lamp and knock it over? Did he trip on its cord, pulling it on top of himself? Was it suddenly possessed by a malignant force bent on world domination, starting with his own demise?

 _I don't remember._

Everything looked much sinister now – especially the hot pink lamp. Shadows crept up the walls, deepened corners. Questions flooded his mind.

 _How did I get here? Where even is here? Is this my room? Do I even_ like _hot pink lampshades?_

 _Do I…I don't know what I…who…_ dawning horror. Panic.

 _Who am I?_

"Help," Jerking back at the croak of his own voice, the sound echoed and bounced off the walls. It wasn't just quiet, he realized now. It was dead silent. Panic crawled down his throat and sat in his gut like a particularly gruesome and slimy toad. His head pounded.

 _What is my name?_

"Help!" Nothing answered. Ignoring the brief, blackening screen across his vision and the trembling in his legs, he stood. "Help me!"

 _Who am I?_

Nothing. The slimy toad burst into flame, hot and desperate. "Someone! Anyone – help!" The room had gone dark again and he scrambled to the walls, feeling across them. "Ouch!" Right – the broken glass. It stung, but it distracted him from the continuous pounding in his head at least. But where were his shoes? Did he even have shoes? "Anyone!?"

 _I don't know who I am!_

As soon as small fingers felt the cool metal of the handle, he flung the door open – to darkness. "Is someone here? Help me!" he shouted down the hall – _"…you know better. Inside voices, remember rule fourteen?" –_ and it just echoed. He couldn't hear a thing. He couldn't even see how far the hallway went either way or if there was another door anytime soon. Feeling the wall back on the inside of the room for – there! The light switched flicked and…. nothing. Everything stayed the muted shades of black and grey that you could only get at midnight.

He glanced ahead towards who knew what, then behind. At the plain room with his blob on the floor and the demented pink lamp right beside it.

He took off running. The cut from the glass on his foot hurt – _"…don't worry it's just a cut, it'll be fine before you know it_!" but he didn't care. There had to be someone around here who could help him. Right? There had to be.

 _What is my name?_

…And if there wasn't? Well, he'd think of that when it got there.

" _Don't worry Rex, it'll all be over soon"._

0000100101000110010

The last thing Caesar remembered was take off.

An attempted take off, at any rate. Or was it the landing? He could assume that both had been sufficiently turbulent and either was as likely to have caused him to black out through physical trauma as the other. Speaking of trauma – what had hit him? Hopefully not his amplified magnet – with a few extra enhancements of course, but that was beside the point. The point being that it was heavy. And expensive, but mostly heavy.

His head throbbed painfully.

Takeoff. Right. Or landing. Either one, really. Maybe both; the last hour, potentially more, was a bit of a blur. Well, less a blur and more blinding lights and extreme chaos, but that didn't concern him as much.

What came before that, though – _that_ was what concerned him.

"Computer," he grunted, rolling his tongue against the split on the inside of his cheek and tasting the tang of copper, "location please." Standing from where he lay sprawled on the floor beneath the main flight control console, Caesar groped along the wall for the emergency light switch.

No response. That could be problematic. "Computer – current location." Still nothing. Seconds later he found the light switch and flipped it, illuminating the entirety of his lab in a bright white light. It blinded him for a second, but he didn't mind. It was a good sign – one of the first he'd had in the last 24 hours. In comparison to what had just transpired - that thought wasn't as comforting as he'd hoped.

Blinking the spots from his vision, he took a moment to survey the damage. It was promising. Minimal damage to the interior of the workspace – a few of the consoles and more delicate instruments were beyond current repair capabilities, but it seemed as if the most vital of the mechanics of his mobile lab were at least salvageable. Everything beyond the emergency lights seemed to be offline, however.

Including even the sturdiest and most basic of his computer interfaces. "Computer – location." He hadn't expected it to work – but he liked to indulge in a healthy dose of superstition and chance. It kept his mind and thought process flowing and helped avoid stagnation. But never had he been so disappointed that the third time was, in fact, not the charm.

Unfortunate, but he'd worked with less – _"...stop this madness, we don't have enough data! It's not ready – we don't have enough to work with and you know it- "_

Gasping as his knees hit the floor, he swallowed back the bile rising in his throat.

No. Now was no time to overreact. He needed to find Rylander. He needed to find Rex.

Rex.

Unbidden, memories assaulted him – _"Don't you dare throw what I think you're about to throw, mijo!"_

 _"Come on! You're no fun…"_

 _"Rex – Rex no! Watch where- "_

 _"…what happened! He just – it was so quick and I couldn't stop him – "_

 _"…completely theoretical. The prognosis is optimistic, but we just don't know enough to accurately –"_

 _"He's – it's like he can speak to them! Do you realize the implications of what this means for our future? What we can accomplish with –"_

 _"…no! I refuse. I won't be part of any of this!"_

 _"You have no choice – we have the opportunity to change the world and your son is_ proof! _If you are too blind to see it then- "_

 _"You know what we have to do, Caesar. I want you to promise me that you'll look after Rex. Look after each other alright? We love you – "_

Caesar barely noticed that he was nearly back at square one – sprawled on the floor of his lab, shards of glass butting into his hands. Memories threatened to overwhelm him, of his mother, father, _Rex –_

Rex. He needed to find Rex first. Rylander second. Well, Rex second and Rylander third. First he needed to find out where he was.

Pulling himself to his feet and carefully picking his way across the glass strewn floor, Caesar heaved the manual latch to the door open and –

Cold. That was very, very cold. That was Not Good. Very few regions with climate and terrain such as this (too much snow, no roads immediately visible, and _at least_ two moose in sight) were within a manageable distance to Abyssus. And none of them would be close enough for him to get to within a day without the aid of his lab.

And Rex was most likely still at the housing facility just offsite of the main laboratory. Alone – or worse. At that distance from ground zero, who knew what side effects it could cause.

There must be some sort of imbalance or acute head injury the takeoff – landing – had caused because before he even realized it –

 _The sounds of machines thundered. Too loud, but they knew this would happen. It was just as they theorized – that is to say, it was a catastrophe. Some were prepared, most weren't. It didn't seem to matter either way. No one was prepared. Not really._

 _Pounding of adrenaline, unfamiliar to his body. The chaos, sirens blaring, but he still felt as if the machine roared louder. Even above the others, his friends and coworkers streaming through the halls and crying for safety for cover for_ anything, _it was still louder to him. Could hear it clearly, even now from the safety behind his lab doors –_

 _It went dark first. And quiet. Everything was plunged into blackness, but only for a second. Then light, too bright to directly stare at, too bright to look away –_

It was no use. "What have we done?" Caesar clasped his head between his knees, slowly sliding to the floor against the door – glass now pricking through his trousers. Scientifically, he knew _exactly_ what they had done. They had just changed the world – irrevocably. Caesar had said for the better, in the end. So had his parents. But better for whom? No one, if they were all honest. It was only better than the alternative. The best of a bad, a _horrific,_ situation.

Theoretically speaking, there were bound to be heavy consequences for the world at large. He wasn't sure how Rex would be effected, his case unique as it was – but the possible mutations and statistical probabilities of their outcomes and variety for the population of the earth as a whole?

They…had completely changed the world.

A smile, unbidden, began to spread. Nearing the end, everyone who knew was somber, aware of the dire consequences of what they were doing. But _at_ the end – their hands on the controls, the knowledge of what they were unleashing –

It had been magnificent. As a child, he had dreamt of changing the world – so had his parents. Their dream inspired his and it flourished under their enthusiasm. In the end, they had all accomplished their dreams after all.

He couldn't help it. "Mama, Papa – what did we do?"

Caesar Salazar laughed.

0000100101000110010

 **Three Weeks Later**

"…"

" _We've got a job for you, if you're interested."_

Not so much an offer then, as a demand. "How long."

" _Depending on your capabilities – potentially indefinite."_

"Who?"

 _"Government body- "_

That didn't sound like it would end well – or at all for that matter. "You know I don't work with the government- "

 _"This is different. Trust me, you'll want to get in on this."_

"Name?"

 _"Providence."_

* * *

A/N: Ok, so wow. Very...uh, very good to see you all once again. I know its been...two years since I've posted anything on this site - and then there is this monster. To everyone who is reading ad reviewing a Martyr's Morning I sincerely thank you. No, really, I appreciate all the love and encouragement that story has garnered. I just was away (like really in a different country with minimal no no access to a computer away) for two years and have never really overcome my writer's block on that story. But I will persevere! It is not dead!

This story, however, comes from one of my all time favorite (and relatively underappreciated) cartoons! Generator Rex! Because I'm not very clear with it above, I'll clarify. This story takes place IMMEDIATELY AFTER THE EVENT. There have never really been any stories covering this part and time, and I find that sad. This universe has so much potential! And it will be AU, I'll be continuing the story as if Caesar wasn't able to make it into orbit in time. Thus he merrily begins to hunt for his amnesiac and snarky little brother across the globe. From Mexico to China, Caesar really can't catch a break. Especially when Providence gets on their trail. after two years. And Rex? He's just in it for the luls.

Review! What do you think?


	2. The First Day is Always the Worst

The Days that Follow

* * *

Rex liked it better when he could call the bloodstain on the floor just a blob. Caesar would prefer it if his little brother would stop high jacking his way across the globe. Six would like to know who the hell thought it would be a good idea to spawn this nightmare. The Event has happened and these are the days that follow. AU

* * *

 _ **Chapter TWO – The First Day is Always the Worst**_

"I'm back!"

Four heads swiveled, eyes bright and smiles wide. "Rex," a girl, by far both the shortest and the youngest reaching only to Rex's upper chest, scrambled to her feet, knocking down the precariously balanced card stack in the center of the small group.

One of the three boys groaned long and loud, planting his face into his hands in obvious aggravation. "Jeez, can you _not_ Isa? That took me, like, four hours to get to!" Nonetheless, he peeked through his fingers with a similarly eager expression on his face. Rex figured it was more for the large bag of food and soda in one hand than his awesome presence, though. "For your sake, I hope you have grape in there."

"Psh," Rex waved him off with grimace, "why you like that stuff, I'll never know."

"Al was dropped on his head as a baby, I don't think he ever really recovered" the oldest boy, and at least a good foot taller than Rex himself, replied.

" _Josh –_ I was _not,_ " Al sputtered in response, "Grape is the best flavor there is! You all are just uncultured heathens."

Josh laughed, getting to his feet, "Think of something original, would you? I just called you that about five minutes ago." Something strange twisted in Rex's stomach at the sight of the two brothers' routine bickering, but he quickly pushed it back.

"Rex!" Isa squealed as she clutched at his leg, big blue eyes glittering, "did you get it? Did you find it? Please, please, _please – "_ Rex laughed crouching down to avoid at her insistent tugging.

Ruffling her hair, ignoring the crusty grime and grease coating it that rubbed gritty and slick through his fingers, he said, "Course I did – who do you think I am?"

Al gasped as he pulled from the bag a collection of brightly colored candy bars, all pristinely wrapped and ready to be devoured. "Dude! How did you manage to sneak those past big, bald, and brooding? He guards them like they're his grandmother's ashes or something!" Isa just cried out victoriously before snatching at least half the pile and sprinting back to the group – who were by now all on their feet and gaping in disbelief.

Rex shrugged, "Easy – I didn't get them from there."

Finally, the last boy of the group, who'd been content with browsing an old car magazine until then, spoke up, confused, "What do you mean? That's the only grocers within the next four or five blocks."

"But not within nine or ten," he replied with a smug smile before tossing out a candy bar to each of the kids around him.

Josh caught his with a heavy frown, "You went further than that? Rex, I thought we agreed to stay on our streets – you know, the ones _not_ filled with mutant Chihuahuas who'd like nothing more than to eat your face off. There are still those things crawling all over the place – not to mention the police. They're grabbing- "

"Well ok then," Rex interrupted with a shrug, swinging the backpack from his shoulders, "If you'd rather not enjoy the fine new cloths and underwear I filched, I guess I can just go take them- "

"Wait-" Al bolted towards him, manic with delight, "you got fresh cloths?" Rex let him snatch the pack from his hands to begin rifling through it. "Where?"

"Tell me you didn't," Josh groaned.

"Ok then," Rex nodded, "I totally didn't raid the strip mall on 29th."

"Rex!"

"What," rolling his eyes, he slouched to the nearest chair and flung himself into it, "nothing happened. I got in, I got out. I'm too good to get caught at this point." He shifted and grimaced when he heard a crunch. Please let that not be what he thought it was.

The other boy, an Asian kid named Phil with a stern face and a killer sense of _no-_ humor (Rex might honestly die if he didn't crack a smile soon – that or kill _him_ ), snorted. "Except for Mustache."

Rex whipped up an accusing finger, scowling, "Ok, Mr. Ninja, that was _one time- "_

"And exactly the reason we stay where we are," Josh glared, expression serious. He could probably command armies with his eyebrows alone, if Rex was honest. Those were some scary brows. The nasty looking gash slicing down one side of his face – from his right ear to nearly the center of his chin – didn't hurt either. It had looked fresh when Rex first met him, and it hadn't improved much in the week since.

Speaking of which, he dug into one of the pockets of the enormous green jacket and flung a tube at the boy, "Here – I stopped by to grab this as well. I figured it might help."

Nearly dropping it from surprise – he did drop the candy though, bummer – the teenager blinked incomprehensibly at what he held. "Antibiotic cream?" Josh looked up, "Rex, where – how did you even get this? It looks like the expensive stuff."

Ok. Now Josh looked just a little too grateful for him to feel entirely comfortable. "Dunno, just dropped by someplace and saw it was supposed to help treat bacteria and stuff. I think," he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "didn't think it could hurt to grab some. Your, uh, cut isn't looking so hot."

"Hey," Al spoke up from where he was still digging in the pack, "There are bandages and stuff in here too. It looks like medicine!"

"Ok," Josh's dictator eyebrows took a dive once more. Dang. "I _know_ there aren't any pharmacies nearby. Just how far out did you go?"

"You might not want me to answer that."

" _Rex."_

Angrily he flung up his hands, "We needed that stuff. We've been living off nothing but canned soup and crackers for ages. We haven't even been able to shower for days and for all we know that Chihuahua's claws were _poisonous._ "

Josh just gave a put-upon sigh and Rex's jaws clenched. He appreciated the older teenager – _he did_ – but sometimes? Sometimes Rex wondered if he wouldn't be better off just hopping to the next town – maybe even the next state. He did fine on his own before after all – for the most part.

"I know you're good Rex, but I wish you'd at least let Al or Phil go with you just in case. The police are everywhere, and if they're not shooting at everything that so much as twitches funny, they're grabbing all the kids they can. If you get caught- "

"Would that be such a bad thing," Phil spoke up.

No one answered immediately.

Rex saw Al stop digging, only to motion for Isa to follow him out of the room. She was six, but still old enough to understand what was going on around her for the most part. Al was around Rex's age, but was infinitely better at handling the little girl than anyone else. Probably because he was the one that found her. He knew what usually came next. It wasn't like this was going to be the first time the issue was brought up.

Rex himself fought the desire to slip back out the door and go hunting through the empty streets again, distinctly uncomfortable with the direction this was going. He'd been with the group the shortest amount of time, just around a week. It was Phil a few days before that, and the brothers had found Isa just before then. On the day after the 'Incident'.

"You know why that would be a bad thing," Josh's voice was low and stern.

But Phil wouldn't budge, "No, I don't. None of us are freaks, we wouldn't have anything to worry about."

"Yeah, well neither was my mom," Josh snapped.

Well, this was _not_ what Rex had planned on listening to for the rest of the afternoon. So, with quiet steps, he inched around the room, and darted for the front door again before either boy even noticed. Then he made his way down the street, trying and failing as always to ignore the eerie silence of the near abandoned neighborhood.

It had been a long two weeks. And only one of them was spent in this city.

He didn't remember much of the first few days or so where he had first woken up. Mostly, now, those moments were flashes of hunger, being cold – lost. But Rex only had so much patience for panic after a while. It didn't last long.

Within two days he had explored everywhere he possible could without going too far into the dead forest that surrounded what he was certain must have been some zombie-survivalist compound. It was the only explanation. It'd had a whole basement filled with canned food and what seemed like mountains of other stuff – juice, water, fruits, _peas_ of all things – but that wasn't even the weirdest bit.

There were also the labs. Like crazy psycho-scientist labs with lots of pointy things and buttons and fancy machines.

Oh, and there was also the freaking _castle_ on the giant cliff thing right next to his building. That was cool, though. Trashed and a bit of a dump, but cool.

Then, right when Rex thought he'd adjusted to waking up in some mad scientist's laboratory with no memory (please let him not be a creepy clone experiment thing, _please_ let him be normal) the ships arrived. There were only three, and they'd landed at the base of the cliff instead of up directly next to the castle – but he didn't think they were tourists.

They had guns. A lot of big, very cool and probably deadly guns. Yeah, _so_ not tourists. Or if they were, man had he picked the wrong vacation spot.

Rex could have cried (and he might've, but no one would ever know better) despite the potential danger. Finally! A way out and he could go – somewhere – anywhere, but _away_ from the forest of ultimate creeps. Gathering up the few essentials he'd managed to scrounge up (including a giant green jacket with this weird pineapple flavored gum in one pocket and not much else) he'd started the trek to the next nearest shelter beside his own that he'd seen the men enter.

Then they blew it up. In a great orange flame, he felt even from where he stood, the heat searing across his skin and burning against his eyes, everything was burnt to the ground. Smoke filled the air and Rex's stomach twisted uncomfortably with something close to terror. Not tourists then.

Change of plans.

He'd snuck aboard instead.

That was also the moment he'd discovered that – yup. He was _so_ not normal. After all, how many kids could open a locked airplane with just a thought and a touch?

It also happened to be the reason Rex refused to have anyone come along with him on his hunts. He'd met the group he was with now after sneaking – successfully until his foot had hit the ramp on his way down – then fleeing the ship he'd been on after it had landed in the city. Josh had swooped and carried him off with hardly a moment's hesitation. Rex wasn't the first kid he'd saved from the streets.

Rex scowled, violently kicking a stone in his path. He was certainly the only freak they'd saved, though – and Rex wasn't quite sure what they'd all do if they found out. It was just too easy to get food from the vending machines around the mall and the small store two blocks down (seemed no one wanted to take the time to shove in a few dollar bills when there could be a mutant thing just around the corner, waiting to pounce). He had to do something to help the rag-tag group of survivors that had helped him out, right?

And when you could shut off security systems in the closed and near abandoned mall on 29th with just a thought? Well, he was just making the best of a bad situation. Didn't mean he wanted to get thrown out onto the streets though. Or worse.

He shuddered. Josh was right about the police. They were snatching up kids and people off the streets left and right. Sometimes to help – other times, well, not so much.

Rex couldn't entirely blame them though. Just two days ago he saw an officer stop to help a woman lying on the ground. Phil, who'd been out with him at the time – both too bored to stay cooped up for long – had nick-named him Moustache. And when he'd crouched down to help her up?

Things got a little freaky. Of the green and slimy variety.

They didn't stick around long – not when Moustache started running _in their direction._ Rex still claimed that Phil tripped him up to get away when the officer nabbed him by the scruff of his jacket. You didn't need to be the fastest, after all – just faster than the guy next to you. It was easy to forgive, though, when the older kid had a mean swing with a wooden plank, nailing Moustache right in the face.

Rex did his best to avoid police after that. He didn't fancy getting shot at because they thought he was one of those mutant things.

 _But…am I?_ Frowning thoughtfully at his clenched fists, Rex made his way to the house on the next street over – the only one still locked and untouched by their little group. It was old and rundown – from before the explosion, and probably didn't have anything useful. But it was out of the way and creepy enough to ward off even the less superstitious police.

Walking up the rickety wooden steps, Rex flung himself on the bench resting beneath one of the windows with a huff. He was certainly not normal, but did that mean he was going to go crazy sooner or later? Start sprouting teeth or hair or even tentacles?

(Rex would swear on his own grave that he would never look at Chihuahuas the same way ever again – it had all three).

Just because he could do a little extra on the side, would Josh throw him out? Would Al, and Phil agree? Rex didn't know, but the longer he stayed the more chance he'd have to find out. And he didn't feel like being called a freak and shot at, thank you very much.

It wasn't like it was his fault he was like this.

Shooting to his feet, Rex felt a surge of red hot anger wash through him. _It's not my fault!_ With a strangled cry his fist swung out at the window.

The surprise when it gave way and shattered didn't nearly compare to his terror when the glass didn't go in – _but something shot out!_

"Ah!," Legs – _to many freaking legs_ – shot out and would have smacked him in the head, had he not dove for the floor. A grey blur shot to the ground in front of him – _oh God, the legs!_ Rex thought frantically.

The thing hissed, scuttling about back and forth, as if unsure what to do with another living thing bigger than itself. Rex froze where he was sprawled on the ground. It was huge. And hairy, with a dozen legs to many and the same number of eyes to match. But no mouth? Maybe it only ate lettuce and stuff –

Screaming, he rolled to the side when it dove for him, catching sight of a large cavernous mouth filled with teeth on the underside of its belly. _This is the pet spider of the devil._

He ran for it.

And, of course, devil spider chased.

 _This is so not my day._ He dove for the corner of the street, throwing trash cans and anything else he could down behind him. Several loud thumps and a horrible screeching that curdled his toes followed, but he didn't dare look behind him.

Teeth rattled in his head and the entire frame shuddered as a heavy weight barreled right into it and threw him to the ground. _Whoever said spiders were just afraid of us needs to have a face to face with this one!_

Twisting under the heavy weight ( _ohgodohgoditwashairyandhugeohgod)_ and blindly swinging his fists wherever they could reach, Rex cried out in pain when _s_ omething sharp tore into the sleeve of his hoodie and dug into his arm.

 _BANG!_

With a shriek the weight was gone, and so was the pain. "Holy mother of-"

"Kid!" Rex heard the shout, heard the running – _had heard a gunshot –_ and wanted to swear. If it wasn't one thing, it was always another. It really wasn't his day. "Kid, are you alright!"

Shoving himself to his feet, only to bite back a shout at the weight on his left arm, Rex got nowhere fast. A hand wrapped around that _same left arm, really!? –_ and Rex?

The man swore - " _Jesus!"_ Rex didn't like people grabbing him. Hopefully the guy would be too busy clutching his bloody nose now. "What the _hell_ ki– wait, stop!"

Yeah. Right. Did that ever actually work? "Nope!" Rex hollered over his shoulder and – holy heck it was Mustache Guy! Clutching his nose, the officer who had made a grab for Rex and Phil four days ago was tucking away a glint of metal and beginning to sprint after him.

Rex cursed his legs (they were not short, dammit Phil!) and resumed his sprint away. He had a decent head start and he knew there was a small alley with a –

Giant spider. "You've got to be kidding me!" Rex shouted, diving for the floor as the large mass of hair and _pure evil_ missed its tackle. Mustache started swearing again behind him. Pain radiated up his arm. Screeching picked up again right above him and Rex curled into a ball, throwing his hands above his head.

Another shot – silence.

"Kid- kid! Are you alrigh- gah!" Rex's kick connected with a satisfying thump and Mustached buckled. On top of him.

"Get. Off!" Grunting under the heavy weight, Rex thrashed to no avail. Before he knew it an arm was wrapped around his middle and the breath fled his lungs with a wheeze as he was pressed into the ground.

"Calm down – I'm not going to hurt you."

"Says the guy with the freaking gun!" Rex grunted, squirming enough to compete with the squirmiest out there. But Moustache was like a brick. A solid, ugly brick with bad facial hair. "Move!"

"Only if you stop moving!"

"No!"

"Then I'm not moving," and what little air was left in his lungs promptly fled when he was sat on! Really?

"Very… mature," Re gasped weakly.

"Touche," the man replied with a grimace of a smile. And no wonder – from his vantage point the guy had a nasty cut to his temple with a nice bruise to match on his jaw. Rex hoped he was already married, he wasn't going to be winning any beauty contests any time soon. "I'll be mature when I see some to be mature with."

"I'm twelve!"

"Good to know," the man nodded, "it'll help us narrow down the search for your parents."

"Gah!"

Moustache snatched one of Rex's wrists in a tight, unforgiving grip. "Are you ready to cooperate?"

"Will you _get off_ if I say yes?" In response Rex could breathe again, great gulping gasps of air as he struggled to his knees, still wincing at the burn in his arm.

"Up you go," Moustache lifted him in one smooth, _irritating_ motion, setting him on his feet with hand still clasped tight around his wrist – thankfully not his probably poisoned and or broken one! Blessings, right?

Rex tugged at it, glaring mutinously at the officer in front of him. "Let. Go."

"No," he stated.

Near screaming inarticulately, Rex grappled with the hand clutching him, even going as far as trying to bite it before Moustache flicked him on the head for the attempt. "I've had enough biting monsters for one day, thanks. No why were you running away?"

Rex scoffed, "You're the police, why _wouldn't_ we run away?"

The man looked pained at the answer, "Exactly because of that, we're the police. We're here to help you find your families and stay safe. And I know you aren't out here alone – there's at least one other kid that was with you."

"Have you been stalking us?" Rex demanded, incredulous.

"Shamelessly," he said, "I just want to help you find your parents."

"Good luck with that, some of us don't have parents anymore."

Again, the man looked like he was about to start tearing up at the response and, really, _really_ briefly Rex felt kind of bad for being so blunt. Then he tried tugging his arm away and remembered why he shouldn't feel guilty for the cop. "Now let me go!"

The man merely sighed before wrapping an arm around Rex's waist and hefting him up in an easy hold under his arm. "Hey!"

"Even if you don't have or know where your parents are, I still need to get you off the streets," he said, eyes shifting to the still twitching corpse of the devil spider, "its dangerous out here. For both you and your partner," was his pointed response.

Rex scowled, "We've been fine on our own so far."

"But for how long?" Moustache questioned, "Things aren't getting any better kid, just worse. We want to make sure we keep as many people safe if we can. No tell me where your friend is?"

"Yeah right."

He sighed. "Fine, don't tell me, we'll find them eventually. And yes," he continued when Rex stiffened at the mention of others, "we know it's more than just you and that other kid. We've seen your group out and around often enough to get a good idea. You guys aren't the only ones we've taken in you know?"

Rex stayed silent.

With another heavy sigh, Moustache didn't do more than carry a very unwilling pre-teen and stuff him into his car.

"I'm Danny, by the way," he said once they were on the road. "I'm the one in charge of trying to track down and help," he ignored Rex's snort, "all the kids in this part of town."

Rex smiled brightly, "And I'm Steve. Nice to meet you."

"Your name isn't Steve, is it?" It wasn't really a question.

"Nope."

"Are you going to make this in any way easier for me?"

"Nope."

Dany- Moustache groaned. Then screamed when an explosion of dust and debris came bursting from a side alley to fill the street.

Rex cried out when the seat-belt snapped against his torso, whiplash slamming his head back again. Danny wasn't much better, jerking the wheel to right only for his head to smack against the window.

It was hard to see with all the dust filling the street, but the car hit _something_ and both Rex and Moustache were thrown forward once more, this time into airbags. It was not as soft as Rex imagined it might be. Ears ringing, he grappled with his seatbelt, hand pawing uselessly at the release when it flickered into a set of three.

Finally, Rex heard a click. And then shouting.

"KID! Are you alright – hey, hey," Rex felt hands on his shoulders, then his hips as he was lifted gently out of the car, "you with me kid?"

First his vision settled on the man in front of him, bright blue eyes and dusty brown hair smeared and slicked to the side with grime and blood. Then his ears stopped ringing and he could hear the shouting – and the screaming and the crying. There were people – everywhere, running and shoving past each other to get away from whatever it was behind them.

Rex didn't blame them. Especially when he heard a deep and guttural roar echo and practically vibrate the ground beneath his feet. And hand was at his wrist in a flicker of a second; tight and constricting.

"Stay with me – I don't want you getting lost."

Yeah. No. He was just aware enough to know that wasn't going to fly. Rex glanced around, gnawing on the inside of his cheek and twisting his wrist a little, testing. The grip tightened; Mustache frowned, looking a lot scarier with the blood dripping down from his hair. Slipping away might not be as easy as he'd hoped then. Another bone rattling roar.

Or as safe.

But the street was in chaos. People still shoving, pushing through the crowds of the streets trying to get away from – whatever it was. Rex couldn't see anything through the crowds. If he hadn't been so desperate to escape, he might've just had a little of his faith in humanity restored at the notion that one stranger would care enough about a single kid to go so far out of his way to help him in all _this_.

Or he could be a creep. It's fifty-fifty toss up and the jury was still out. And dang, his head _hurt._

What happened next was sudden. Neither Rex nor moustache guy had time to react. The ground shook, the building just ahead of them – three stories tall - collapsed and dust and grime and everything else exploded into the street, blinding him. Moustache hit the ground and dragged Rex with him, arms wrapped constrictively around his smaller form till he thought he would suffocate.

Dust. Screaming. Panic. Alarms of some sort wailing in the closing distance. Pain in his arm – must've hit the ground harder than he thought. Eyes burned. Stupid dust. Stupid building. Stupid _explosion._

Soft murmuring came next, right in his ear. "It's ok, it's going to be ok – shh," It took a moment to realize that was Mustache. How could he hear _that_ over all this noise? "You're fine, it's going to be ok," In another moment Rex realized – he was shaking, hands clenched painfully tight in Mustache's coat. A hand was brushing back his hair at a steady pace with the soft words. Rex wanted to push away, to get away – but he couldn't.

He was still shaking. Couldn't even speak now.

What the heck was wrong with the world?

"We're going to be just fine, you hear me?"

Rex wasn't so sure about that.

0000100101000110010

Gone. Everything, their home, his personal labs, _Rex –_ just gone.

Sinking to his knees in front of the remanence of what he and his family – _gone_ – had once called home, Caesar wondered, not for the first time in the last two weeks, what to do now. There were always more steps, more options available of course, but it was more the concept behind the notion that made the question so appealing.

Gone. Everything was lost, destroyed, and he didn't _want_ to know what to do in that moment. He just wanted to feel empty, sit here and think about _nothing_ and _everything t_ hat he had just lost all in one moment.

But it was hardly a productive mentality to indulge in, however much he may have needed it. Rex needed him more and he had wasted enough time in even trying to get here. Caesar got to work.

What had been left of the entire Abyssus facility was now nothing more than an assortment of smoking ruins. Where the individual housing units for the scientists and their families had been, there were now a collection of debris and gapping craters, scorched and scarred into the earth beneath them.

In contrast the research center itself that had been hardly touched. It was in as bad a condition, stone walls crumbling around it, entire sections of the outer walls and ceilings missing or caved in, but the pattern was completely different. There were no scorch marks. No combustible explosives had done that amount of damage with as little a stain left. No, it looked as if the castle had merely been blasted outwards with nothing but a wave of brute force energy alone.

Incidentally, that was exactly what had occurred.

Caesar couldn't help but stand in mute awe of the incredible destruction the release sequence of the nanites had inflicted upon its surroundings. Even more incredible was that in comparison, it was the least destructive of all the damage the event had incurred. He had seen the footage, witnessed some of the remarkable mutations first hand even (those used to be moose, where he had initially landed suffice it to say).

But those were observations for another time.

For now, he only prayed that there was something left of his work. It seemed as if he had made it here too late.

There was only one group of people that could have reacted this quickly to ground zero based on the evidence he had uncovered – imprints of an aerial vehicle and the explosive scars themselves, the local plant life having already begun to recover and grow over the marks at an unprecedented rapid rate (which was _fascinating_ ). Only one group who would deliberately sabotage and destroy all evidence of the project's populace of scientists, yet leave the evidence of the project itself uncovered and untouched for the most part.

And there was now a high probability they also had Rex. That was unacceptable.

Caesar began to make his way to the castle. It came as no surprise now that they had reacted as quickly as they did – so why had he still be so shocked when he arrived and there had been no little brother to meet him, to carry away to safety? Only dust and smoke and dirt.

It felt like he was participating in a race that he'd never even known about.

Optimistically, they hadn't destroyed the more delicate instruments in the main lab. His best hope of finding Rex now was to recover either enough parts to repair his own nanite scanner, or find one there as much of his own materials were badly damaged, nigh on irreparable. The former would be preferred, as his was already keyed into his brother's unique signature, however.

Walking the halls felt stifling. It was quiet and the inside of the labs had fared no better than the outside. The further he went underground, and closer to the main reactor, it seemed the damage was less though. Like the energy hadn't solidified quite yet, and passed harmlessly through the walls.

But whereas the plant life had already begun to intrude on the upper levels – down here? There wasn't so much as a spider or a speck of moss – no sign of any organic life. The nanites may not have solidified enough to damage inorganic material at this distance, but the same did hold true for living beings. The charge and pure energy output along must have excited, and subsequently, disintegrated them on a molecular level.

In a way, Caesar was grateful. He much preferred avoiding the remnants of whoever, possibly now whatever, might have survived.

He desperately tried not to think of his parents and what might have remained of them. Logically he knew- nothing. Emotionally?

Caesar stayed clear of the central hallway delving deeper into the castle.

After a brief sweep through his own quarters, left mostly untouched and his equipment miraculously in serviceable condition, Caesar gathered the necessary components and left as quickly as he came, nearly running for his own mobile laboratory, still looking a little more on the rough side despite his week-long repairs. There would be more time for exploration and scientific discover.

Right now, Rex came first – and damn anyone who got in his way.

0000100101000110010

Information was sparse. The most basic of intel only – the bare minimum he required. Barely any names – apparently, there was only one that mattered. He didn't like it, but there wasn't much that could be done.

He couldn't turn down this job, though. Not now.

The screen was fuzzy – he wasn't anywhere civilized enough for it to be in good condition right now. That would change in two hours.

"… _sure what is happening. Early reports are theorizing some sort of new biological warfare- "_

It was complete disaster. Everywhere – middle-of-nowhere-here included. No one knew what exactly was causing it – or if they did, it was kept tight under lock and key. With the outbreak, he doubted anyone would be coming forward to take responsibility any time soon.

" _-mass hysteria, caused by frequent and inexplicable rapid mutations in organic material- "_

Only one group seemed to be mounting a response. Six hours in and one group gathering resources. Enough to mount a near enough national offensive movement in America, it would seem, if his sources were reliable.

" _-latest update! Japan now joins the rapidly growing ranks of over twenty countries with positive sightings of the mutations- "_

Providence. Few names, most unfamiliar to him.

" _-asking for all volunteers with military backgrounds to meet at the locations shown – "_

He'd be needing all the help he could get with this. It was time he gave Knight a call.

* * *

 **A/N:** Woot! I had this sitting on the back burner for ages - I'm not really sure I like how short Caesar's chapter is, and we'll definitely get more time with him in the future, but for now I'm really trying to focus on Rex and build on his mentality in this brave new world. He's a kid, a spunky kid sure, but just a kid who woke up in a strange place of everyone is blowing up everybody else's stuff and there are giant evil Chihuahuas rampaging through town (Don't worry - you will see the little devil before long mwuahaha). I still love Rex as a character though - he is just so full of life and energy and SASS! But he is not the same Rex as from the show, we know that Rex wasn't always the greatest guy from his time in China, and this will show a bit of that. He's got trust issues (who wouldn't when you are essentially what everyone else is afraid off) and is looking out for number one. Who can blame him?

Anyway, please leave a review letting me know what you think! Also, check out my new crossover between Harry Potter and KHR titled **Sunshine and Lemdrops!**

 **BeIntrospective**


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